Memories
by Nikki Whitecraft
Summary: Our Last Goodbyes Are Always The Hardest Yet Have To Be Done More So For Those Left Behind (Character Death)


Title: Memories Author: Nikki Disclaimer: not mine nor will it ever be mine Warning: angst, character death Summary: Sometimes our final goodbyes are the hardest. Authors note: well I wrote this duh but I didn't truly write it till my bestest best bud Q-ball beta'ed it thanks Q-ball  
  
In the middle of a great field, there stood two figures with hunched shoulders, neither of them noticing or even caring about the soft rain that fell upon their small frames. If we look closer, we can see the beginnings of tears within the second's eyes, but he never lets them fall; and if we go closer still, we can just catch his voice talking on the wind.  
  
"I'm standing here looking down at the soft grass, and thinking, 'Why?' It started to rain a while ago, but I didn't notice, or care. Nothing mattered to me anymore; not since you, but you wouldn't know that. Or would you? No, I guess you really wouldn't, but then... I guess I won't find out for a long time, will I? And it's not like I can ask you now, no matter how much I wish I could.  
  
"It's been a struggle getting the rest of the death eaters in. I have to be there, you know- at their trials. Watching, as one by one they are all sentenced to the Kiss; sometimes I wonder if I should be Kissed as well—after all, I've killed. Some might say that I did it for the good of the light, but it's still the same, light or dark. I still took peoples' lives; ripped families apart that had did nothing wrong, except get tricked by a mad man. You understood that. Even when you were being pushed around like a chess piece, you always understood more then you ever let on. You always did say that you could never blame the pieces; only the players themselves.  
  
"Merlin, I miss you. I never thought it would hurt this much. And really, I never thought it would be you that would go. If anyone, I had always expected it to be me that would die in the last battle. I still think that if I close my eyes, when I open them you'll be there. With that small smile that only I ever got to see. But then I open them, and you're not there. All that's left is the cold, bitter harshness of the world that you are no longer a part of; in which you will only ever be remembered in memories and half truths. If I didn't have any more tears to shed, I would still weep over the fact that no one will ever know the true you; only what brainless morons thought they knew.  
  
"It's strange, not being able to see you. But it's even stranger seeing the pitying looks that I get when people think I don't see them. I guess they've already forgotten that I've never stopped—after all, it's what saved my live. But it couldn't save yours, could it?"  
  
Sitting down in the grass, the young man-child—for that is what he was—sat. No longer a boy, yet not fully a man. Pulling his legs to his chest, he kept his gaze to the ground below before speaking softly again.  
  
"I've been offered a job at Hogwarts. Can you believe that? Me, a teacher. You always said that I would make a great teacher, as I always got on great with kids. I... haven't decided if I'm going to take it, yet. I mean, I wasn't expecting to live, let alone know what I wanted to do. But then, we both expected that, didn't we? We both expected to die in this. So why am I still here when you're not? How can they expect me to live when the only thing I lived for from the beginning is gone?  
  
"They tell me to move on, that you wouldn't want to me to feel like this. But then, what would they know? They didn't understand us; they didn't understand our need for each other, or how we only ever felt complete when we were lying in each others' arms.  
  
"I don't think they will ever realise just how much we meant to each other. Just how much I felt for you. It's not really all their fault, I know, and if you were here I know that you would be giving me that look—the one that says you're upset with me—but you'd kindly understand my reason and you'd still love me."  
  
The young man-child sobs softly at this, yet still no tears will fall from his eyes.  
  
"You'd still love me. But that's in the past now and you're gone. So I will never again hear you laugh, see your smile, hell, I will never again get to smell your scent, except on half-faded dreams, and pillows. You once told me that should you die, I was to keep living, and I just laughed. Remember, I said that out of both of us, it would be me that would go first? You just looked at me with such a sad look. I was so dumb; I should have seen it then but I didn't. I didn't even see it when we made love that night. If only I had seen it, I would never have let you go. I would have kept you in bed, hidden from the world. But you wouldn't have liked that. I know you had to go, and somehow deep inside I understood. But that doesn't mean I have to like it!  
  
"I never got the chance to say goodbye, or to tell you how much I—how much I loved you, and I do; I love you so much. You told me to live, and for you I will, but I will never be alive, I will never be alive until I am back in your arms, your scent all around me."  
  
Looking at his company, the man-child stands up and brushes off his trousers. Looking once more at the ground, only then does he let the tears fall from his eyes to hit the ground, quietly, so that one couldn't tell if it was truly tears, or if the rain had decide to weep for him, and if you listened closely you could hear his last words carried softly on the wind. "Goodnight, and God bless. I love you, Harry. Goodbye."  
  
As we watch, we see the silver-haired child leave the field with his elder in tow, going back to what could be called living. Yet for them, it was merely an existence—to bear until they could be reunited with those that they had loved and lost.  
  
The End 


End file.
